A writers' meeting

A writers' meeting in the Pakistani Medical Association, one of the tiny numbers of places available for meetings in this vast city. I arrive a little late and enter a dimly lit room with a large table and twenty people sitting round it, mostly older men. Four women, the youngest of whom is reading a love poem. This is followed by a courteous discussion. Then another woman reads short story about the fate of a married woman in a loveless marriage. Again there is a polite discussion about marriage and its compromises which reflects a depressingly backward attitude towards women. One of the comments, from a woman, about the need of the wife to accept the man’s view could have come from my mother’s generation.